


sanctified

by varsiity



Category: Town of Salem (Video Game)
Genre: Background Character Death, Delusions, Hypocrisy, I Need an Adult, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Knives, Murder, My First Work in This Fandom, Non-Graphic Violence, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, but this is.... Bad, i guess, not a particular religion but like purification and such, probably my last work for this fandom, somebody help this man, this started as something else, what is tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 09:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10828800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varsiity/pseuds/varsiity
Summary: After all, he is a holy figure, preaching salvation with a butcher's knife in his hand and a too-wide smile on his face.





	sanctified

They would catch him eventually, no matter how careful and meticulous Dexter was, no matter how painstakingly he cleaned the knife and disposed of the body and destroyed the evidence. From town to town he went, leaving a trail of corpses behind, barely aware of the fine line he walked. 

After all, it was just a game, a game where his life depended on how easily he could lie and how hard it was to trick the Mayor and the Sheriff, those fools. Dexter could be charming, and he knew it, so there was nothing wrong with taking advantage of the ability. Charm them all into submission. A couple of well-aimed stabs and there was no Lookout left to give him up.

They could say that the killer should be sorry; that was the only thing they seemed capable of doing as they stared at the corpse Dexter had helpfully propped up against the lynching stand that night. Dexter couldn’t muster up the emotion to really care. After all, it was all about emotions, wasn’t it? - in Dexter’s case, he was just lucky enough to have few in the first place. But he could fake them. There was were a few things he was very good at and one was acting.

Maybe there was something wrong with him, with the way he could muster up panic at a moment’s notice and fool the town so fucking flawlessly that they voted innocent on one of the many evils in their midst the single time they managed to get him onto the stand. Maybe there was something wrong with him, with the way he didn’t feel things like other people did, the way he had to pull a switch in his head to trigger empathy - but whatever, it didn’t matter, he had a job to do and it wasn’t playing therapist. 

The town could call him a murderer, the filthy fucking hypocrites. They could call Dexter insane or deranged or disgusting, say he should stab himself instead of the Retributionist because the world didn’t need people like him in it, but he knew the truth. He was less of a murderer than the Mayor was, lynching people and not sparing a second for remorse. He was less of a murderer than the Jailor or the Sheriff or any of the other townies who blabbered on about morals while publicly executing people without a second thought. They were the ones who deserved to die. They were the ones who needed to bleed out on the floor and repent for what they’d done, wallow in their guilt for the rest of their short, miserable lives because of what they’d done.

The world was filthy, wasn’t it? The world was absolutely fucking disgusting. But Dexter would purify it, even if that meant running the streets red with the blood of his victims. He would redeem the earth, and it would be born again from the bodies. He would leave swathes of destruction in his wake, he would make them pay, he would kill as many as it took to make the ground holy once again.

But he wouldn’t be like them. 

He wouldn’t lie through his teeth to get the Medium lynched when the town’s suspicions were enough to tighten the noose around her neck and choke the breath out of her lungs. He wouldn’t call for someone to be shot when they’ll do it themself, so overcome with guilt after shooting the Transporter that the town wakes up the next morning to find them on the ground with a bullet through their head and and splatterings of blood behind them. He wouldn’t sink to their level, wouldn’t waste time like they did, wouldn’t make people wait and beg and plead. He would kill quietly. He would kill cleanly. He would purge this place of sinners. 

Dexter was better than them, after all, and the absolution that came with a knife through your chest was the purest absolution of all.


End file.
